The Baby-sitters Club #47: Mallory on Strike
Oh yes, poor, sad, put-upon Mallory. I'm pretty sure I tried to pull this strike BS when I was a kid and my dad was all "Bee-otch, please. You go on strike, I go on strike. And if I go on strike, you lose food and shelter. Shut up and do your chores." Well, I might be paraphrasing, as my upstanding, conservative, Trip-Man-ish father has never, to my knowledge, used the word "Bee-otch" in his life... but it was implied.
So SMS is hosting a "Young Authors Day" featuring a writing competition and Mal wants to win "Best overall fiction" in the sixth grade. Ok, FINE. That is totally something I would have wanted to do, too. She only has a couple of weeks to write her story (which is going to be about a girl named Tess (why do people always name their characters "Tess"? Has anyone ever even met a "Tess" in real life? I haven't.) who feels taken for granted in her family. Geez, Mal, you're really taking that whole "write what you know" adage to heart. I sincerely hope Tess is not as annoying as you though), so she knows she'll need to really work hard.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Dawn's a California Girl!
The Baby-sitters Club #23: Dawn on the Coast
Well, no shit, Sherlock. We all know Dawn's a California girl. And we love her for it. (At least, I do. All my ideas about California were given to me by Dawn (and in college, by the O.C.) As far as I'm concerned, California is entirely populated by sun-worshiping, beach-loving, health-food-eating, environmentally-conscious, house-with-skylights-having blondes.)
It's spring break (a full two-weeks! Who ever got a full two weeks for Spring Break??? We were lucky to get a week. AND they'd always try to lump our Spring Break in with Easter Break... so annoying! Silly Catholic schools.) and Dawn is off to California to visit her dad and Jeff. Yay, Jeff! But she can't possibly leave without a BSC sleepover to see her off, so they all gather at Kristy's.
Well, no shit, Sherlock. We all know Dawn's a California girl. And we love her for it. (At least, I do. All my ideas about California were given to me by Dawn (and in college, by the O.C.) As far as I'm concerned, California is entirely populated by sun-worshiping, beach-loving, health-food-eating, environmentally-conscious, house-with-skylights-having blondes.)
It's spring break (a full two-weeks! Who ever got a full two weeks for Spring Break??? We were lucky to get a week. AND they'd always try to lump our Spring Break in with Easter Break... so annoying! Silly Catholic schools.) and Dawn is off to California to visit her dad and Jeff. Yay, Jeff! But she can't possibly leave without a BSC sleepover to see her off, so they all gather at Kristy's.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Do wishes really come true?
The Baby-sitters Club #48: Jessi's Wish
Okay, here it is. Another one of those "Sweet baby James, I was a weird child." confessions. I loved reading books about sick kids/teenagers. I thought Lurlene McDaniel books were amazing. Not that I ever wanted to be sick or anything (I'm not that twisted), but I did go through a brief phase of wanting to be a pediatric oncologist and cure cancer. Then I realized how much I hate a) bodily fluids and b) dead things (not like people- I don't have much experience with that! but like all the dead animals that I was supposed to dissect in 10th grade biology that I never, ever touched. My partner and I just handed our little dead creature to the guys who sat behind us and let them go to town... Not like our teacher ever even noticed-he was very rarely actually in the classroom, despite (or perhaps because of?) all the scalpels being wielded by hormonal 15 year olds.)
So I remember reading this book when I was 8 or 9 and liking it as much as I liked any BSC book. And I thought that like would carry over to my re-reading, but sadly not. As much as I truly don't mean to be a heinous bitch, this book was BORING.
Ok, so Becca is a member of the Kids-Can-Do-Anything Club at SES, composed of kids ages 8, 9, and 10 who volunteer and do service projects for the community. Ok, I can get behind that, that sounds nice. But when one of their teacher moderators decides to accompany her husband on sabbatical for a month (Who the hell goes on sabbatical for a month? Isn't it normally a year? I mean, I work at a university and as far as I know, you can't get sabbatical for less than a semester.) the other one doesn't think he can handle it by himself and they're going to have to shut the club down. But Jessi to the rescue! She volunteers to take Ms. Simon's place, and Mr. Katz thinks that would be great. Um, excuse me, but seriously, Mr. Katz? You can't handle 20 kids (aren't you a freakin' school teacher?) after school by yourself, but you can with the help of an 11 year old? Am I the only one to notice that Jessi is exactly one year older than several of the club members? Does he really think they're going to accept her as an authority figure? PUH-LEEZE.
Okay, here it is. Another one of those "Sweet baby James, I was a weird child." confessions. I loved reading books about sick kids/teenagers. I thought Lurlene McDaniel books were amazing. Not that I ever wanted to be sick or anything (I'm not that twisted), but I did go through a brief phase of wanting to be a pediatric oncologist and cure cancer. Then I realized how much I hate a) bodily fluids and b) dead things (not like people- I don't have much experience with that! but like all the dead animals that I was supposed to dissect in 10th grade biology that I never, ever touched. My partner and I just handed our little dead creature to the guys who sat behind us and let them go to town... Not like our teacher ever even noticed-he was very rarely actually in the classroom, despite (or perhaps because of?) all the scalpels being wielded by hormonal 15 year olds.)
So I remember reading this book when I was 8 or 9 and liking it as much as I liked any BSC book. And I thought that like would carry over to my re-reading, but sadly not. As much as I truly don't mean to be a heinous bitch, this book was BORING.
Ok, so Becca is a member of the Kids-Can-Do-Anything Club at SES, composed of kids ages 8, 9, and 10 who volunteer and do service projects for the community. Ok, I can get behind that, that sounds nice. But when one of their teacher moderators decides to accompany her husband on sabbatical for a month (Who the hell goes on sabbatical for a month? Isn't it normally a year? I mean, I work at a university and as far as I know, you can't get sabbatical for less than a semester.) the other one doesn't think he can handle it by himself and they're going to have to shut the club down. But Jessi to the rescue! She volunteers to take Ms. Simon's place, and Mr. Katz thinks that would be great. Um, excuse me, but seriously, Mr. Katz? You can't handle 20 kids (aren't you a freakin' school teacher?) after school by yourself, but you can with the help of an 11 year old? Am I the only one to notice that Jessi is exactly one year older than several of the club members? Does he really think they're going to accept her as an authority figure? PUH-LEEZE.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Claudia might give up the BSC- and it's all the new girls fault!
The Baby-sitters Club #12: Claudia and the New Girl
See, I bet you all thought that I met some sort of new girl (or even better, new BOY) and was dragged away from my BSC recapping duties in order to become new best friends with this person and follow my other muse... but I didn't. And I don't really have another muse. What I do have, as I've complained about before, is a freaking job. And sometimes it really interferes with my life (oh, and grad school doesn't help much either.)
Claudia, on the other hand, does not have a job. She has her art. You know who else has art? Ashley Wyeth, the titular "New Girl." Ashley is one of those pretentious arty types that no one wants to talk to at cocktail parties, the kind who prattles on about her muse and who can't possibly see the humor in a story about someone else's annoying boss (I myself have myriad "annoying boss" cocktail party stories, and they are all hilarious. Maybe someday you all will be lucky enough to attend a cocktail party with me!) However, in this case, it sort of works, because Ashley doesn't want to talk to anyone else anyway. Except Claud.
See, I bet you all thought that I met some sort of new girl (or even better, new BOY) and was dragged away from my BSC recapping duties in order to become new best friends with this person and follow my other muse... but I didn't. And I don't really have another muse. What I do have, as I've complained about before, is a freaking job. And sometimes it really interferes with my life (oh, and grad school doesn't help much either.)
Claudia, on the other hand, does not have a job. She has her art. You know who else has art? Ashley Wyeth, the titular "New Girl." Ashley is one of those pretentious arty types that no one wants to talk to at cocktail parties, the kind who prattles on about her muse and who can't possibly see the humor in a story about someone else's annoying boss (I myself have myriad "annoying boss" cocktail party stories, and they are all hilarious. Maybe someday you all will be lucky enough to attend a cocktail party with me!) However, in this case, it sort of works, because Ashley doesn't want to talk to anyone else anyway. Except Claud.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Dawn thought she'd be baby-sitting--not monster-sitting!
The Baby-sitters Club #5: Dawn and the Impossible Three
I don't like that the title of this book implies that the Barrett kids are nightmares. They're not my favorites, by any means, but they're not terrors. Their mother is the impossible one, and I just can't stand her.
It's a fact. I really freakin' hate Mrs. Barrett. I've been straddling the fence for a while, but frankly, she just takes it over the edge. I get that divorce is hard. I get that single motherhood is not an easy thing to adapt to. But Mrs. Barrett? GROW UP. DEAL WITH YOUR LIFE. (For the record, these are the same things I tell myself when I start to have a flip-out. In fact, I should just tattoo the words "Deal with your life." on my forehead, I repeat them to myself so often.)
Okay, so Dawn is sitting alone at the Pikes for just Mal and the youngest three. Mal is a nosy parker (nose Pike-r? Ha! I pun!) and wants to know all about Dawn's "new-old" house (Mal's wordplay is not nearly as clever as mine. Ha! Take that Mal.) and her mother's relationship with Mr. Spier, which is a just a little creepy to me. But then Buddy and Suzi Barrett come over, and Suzi is crying 'cuz she skinned her knee, so Dawn has to take care of her and then Buddy and Suzi stay at the Pikes' house the rest of the afternoon. That's six kids. Why is that okay? Mrs. Pike always has two baby-sitters for more than four kids. And anyway, why should Dawn have to take care of extra kids? Send them home Dawn! You're not going to get paid any extra for watching the neighbor's kids (especially when that neighbor is the abominable Mrs. Barrett.)
I don't like that the title of this book implies that the Barrett kids are nightmares. They're not my favorites, by any means, but they're not terrors. Their mother is the impossible one, and I just can't stand her.
It's a fact. I really freakin' hate Mrs. Barrett. I've been straddling the fence for a while, but frankly, she just takes it over the edge. I get that divorce is hard. I get that single motherhood is not an easy thing to adapt to. But Mrs. Barrett? GROW UP. DEAL WITH YOUR LIFE. (For the record, these are the same things I tell myself when I start to have a flip-out. In fact, I should just tattoo the words "Deal with your life." on my forehead, I repeat them to myself so often.)
Okay, so Dawn is sitting alone at the Pikes for just Mal and the youngest three. Mal is a nosy parker (nose Pike-r? Ha! I pun!) and wants to know all about Dawn's "new-old" house (Mal's wordplay is not nearly as clever as mine. Ha! Take that Mal.) and her mother's relationship with Mr. Spier, which is a just a little creepy to me. But then Buddy and Suzi Barrett come over, and Suzi is crying 'cuz she skinned her knee, so Dawn has to take care of her and then Buddy and Suzi stay at the Pikes' house the rest of the afternoon. That's six kids. Why is that okay? Mrs. Pike always has two baby-sitters for more than four kids. And anyway, why should Dawn have to take care of extra kids? Send them home Dawn! You're not going to get paid any extra for watching the neighbor's kids (especially when that neighbor is the abominable Mrs. Barrett.)
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Dawn is falling for a California boy!
The Baby-sitters Club #37: Dawn and the Older Boy
Oh, Dawn. Dawn, Dawn, Dawn, Dawn, Dawn. What are we going to do with you? Was I this clueless about guys when I was 13? Answer: Probably, but I must have hidden it better. At least, I hope I did.
So I endured multiple issues with this book, not least of which was the fact that I chose it because I was sure it was the one where Dawn starts trying to make herself over as a "wild child" and one of the things she does is put half her hair in little tiny braids before she went to bed one night and then the next morning she took them out so that half her hair was way frizzy and half of it was straight, and then she goes to school and talks back to the teacher, and informs us that sometimes, you have to take a bad grade in exchange for being cool. Of all the lessons I could have chosen to take from the BSC, that is the one that has stuck with me most vividly. Also, I totally tried to do that to my hair one morning, but my mother freaked out and made me wash my hair before she let me go to school. Unfortunately, none of that awesomeness took place in this book, damn it. Someday, somehow, I will find that scene and relive it. And it will be glorious.
But anyway, back to this book...
The BSC is slumber partying at Kristy's when they decide to go downstairs to breakfast the next morning in pajamas looking like death warmed over, because apparently they all fell asleep while doing makeovers and not a single one of them was smart enough to wash her stupid face? What about brushing their teeth? I mean, they were pigging out at that slumber party and if they all fell asleep without washing their faces, I think we can assume they didn't brush their teeth, and EEEW. Also, Claudia, sleeping with make-up on? Good luck keeping that perfect complexion your friends are always raving about in Chapter 2 of every single book. And Mal, maybe this behavior is part of why you have zits? Maybe stop complaining and instead break out the Neutrogena, hmmm?
Oh, Dawn. Dawn, Dawn, Dawn, Dawn, Dawn. What are we going to do with you? Was I this clueless about guys when I was 13? Answer: Probably, but I must have hidden it better. At least, I hope I did.
So I endured multiple issues with this book, not least of which was the fact that I chose it because I was sure it was the one where Dawn starts trying to make herself over as a "wild child" and one of the things she does is put half her hair in little tiny braids before she went to bed one night and then the next morning she took them out so that half her hair was way frizzy and half of it was straight, and then she goes to school and talks back to the teacher, and informs us that sometimes, you have to take a bad grade in exchange for being cool. Of all the lessons I could have chosen to take from the BSC, that is the one that has stuck with me most vividly. Also, I totally tried to do that to my hair one morning, but my mother freaked out and made me wash my hair before she let me go to school. Unfortunately, none of that awesomeness took place in this book, damn it. Someday, somehow, I will find that scene and relive it. And it will be glorious.
But anyway, back to this book...
The BSC is slumber partying at Kristy's when they decide to go downstairs to breakfast the next morning in pajamas looking like death warmed over, because apparently they all fell asleep while doing makeovers and not a single one of them was smart enough to wash her stupid face? What about brushing their teeth? I mean, they were pigging out at that slumber party and if they all fell asleep without washing their faces, I think we can assume they didn't brush their teeth, and EEEW. Also, Claudia, sleeping with make-up on? Good luck keeping that perfect complexion your friends are always raving about in Chapter 2 of every single book. And Mal, maybe this behavior is part of why you have zits? Maybe stop complaining and instead break out the Neutrogena, hmmm?
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Two weeks of sun, fun--and boys galore!
The Baby-sitters Club #34: Mary Anne and Too Many Boys
Happy birthday, Ann M. Martin! If we were really friends, I would throw you a slumber party in my stepfather's mansion. We would order pizza and give each other makeovers and discuss our crushes on boys like Bruce Schermerhorn and Pete Black, and how immature Alan Gray is. We would gossip about Cokie Mason and Shawna Riverson and discuss our forthcoming trip to the mall where we would get our ears pierced and our hair permed (well, Stacey would.) We would spread our sleeping bags out in a circle with our heads in the middle and be wary in case any of our brothers tried to play tricks on us. We'd giggle at Dawn for preferring Tofutti to actual birthday cake (Sacrilege!) It would be super-fun! Someday, mmmkay? Call me!
So in one of those weird, don't think too hard about it or your brain will explode time warps so common in BSC-land, Mary Anne and Stacey have re-signed up to be mother's helpers for the annual Pike family Sea City summer vacation. Despite Mallory being a baby-sitter now, the Pikes still elect to pay for two extra sitters in an effort to let Mal "enjoy her vacation." Whatever. Are the Pikes made of money? I guess if they want to waste it on baby-sitters, that's their business. But it would it kill them to spend ten minutes of their alleged "family vacation" with their damn kids?
Happy birthday, Ann M. Martin! If we were really friends, I would throw you a slumber party in my stepfather's mansion. We would order pizza and give each other makeovers and discuss our crushes on boys like Bruce Schermerhorn and Pete Black, and how immature Alan Gray is. We would gossip about Cokie Mason and Shawna Riverson and discuss our forthcoming trip to the mall where we would get our ears pierced and our hair permed (well, Stacey would.) We would spread our sleeping bags out in a circle with our heads in the middle and be wary in case any of our brothers tried to play tricks on us. We'd giggle at Dawn for preferring Tofutti to actual birthday cake (Sacrilege!) It would be super-fun! Someday, mmmkay? Call me!
So in one of those weird, don't think too hard about it or your brain will explode time warps so common in BSC-land, Mary Anne and Stacey have re-signed up to be mother's helpers for the annual Pike family Sea City summer vacation. Despite Mallory being a baby-sitter now, the Pikes still elect to pay for two extra sitters in an effort to let Mal "enjoy her vacation." Whatever. Are the Pikes made of money? I guess if they want to waste it on baby-sitters, that's their business. But it would it kill them to spend ten minutes of their alleged "family vacation" with their damn kids?
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Stacey's building a better parent trap...
The Baby-sitters Club #124: Stacey McGill-- Matchmaker?
I SWEAR I've not forgotten you all. Summer is a busy, busy time when you're as fabulously fun as I am. Oh, ok, fine. I'm not fabulously fun at all. In fact, I'm kind of a huge loser. But I really have been busy... well, if not busy, at least "away." See, I went back to the midwest for a vacation with my family, and we didn't have internet in the cabin by the lake, and then I stayed an extra week at my parents' house because the next Sunday was my great-grandma's 100th birthday party (Happy birthday, Baba Mary! That's a feisty old lady, people. I wouldn't be surprised if she outlives us all.) and I meant to use the time wisely by reading some of my old BSC books so I could recap them for you all, but then my mother found out about this blog and that opened a whole new can of worms regarding my life choices (Why am I writing a blog about the BSC? Instead of re-reading books I read in elementary school and then wasting my time on this foolishness, why don't I put some effort into actually getting myself published? Or, you know, married, as she would really prefer)and frankly, it was just easier to put the BSC books back in the closet she kept yelling at me to clean out and spend the week drinking with my cousin. Whew!
So what better way to kick it back off than a story about your favorite and mine, that paragon of fashion and style, that hair-perming, Hard Rock Cafe-loving, math-whizzing delight, ladies and gentlemen, give it up for Ms. Stacey McGill... and her mother Maureen!
I SWEAR I've not forgotten you all. Summer is a busy, busy time when you're as fabulously fun as I am. Oh, ok, fine. I'm not fabulously fun at all. In fact, I'm kind of a huge loser. But I really have been busy... well, if not busy, at least "away." See, I went back to the midwest for a vacation with my family, and we didn't have internet in the cabin by the lake, and then I stayed an extra week at my parents' house because the next Sunday was my great-grandma's 100th birthday party (Happy birthday, Baba Mary! That's a feisty old lady, people. I wouldn't be surprised if she outlives us all.) and I meant to use the time wisely by reading some of my old BSC books so I could recap them for you all, but then my mother found out about this blog and that opened a whole new can of worms regarding my life choices (Why am I writing a blog about the BSC? Instead of re-reading books I read in elementary school and then wasting my time on this foolishness, why don't I put some effort into actually getting myself published? Or, you know, married, as she would really prefer)and frankly, it was just easier to put the BSC books back in the closet she kept yelling at me to clean out and spend the week drinking with my cousin. Whew!
So what better way to kick it back off than a story about your favorite and mine, that paragon of fashion and style, that hair-perming, Hard Rock Cafe-loving, math-whizzing delight, ladies and gentlemen, give it up for Ms. Stacey McGill... and her mother Maureen!
Sunday, June 7, 2009
A locked trunk and a secret diary all add up to...a mystery for the Baby-sitters!
The Baby-sitters Club #29: Mallory and the Mystery Diary
Oh, boy, I'm about to have to admit to something pretty darn embarrassing. Apparently, I didn't always realize what a dingbat Mallory Pike is. Why, you ask? Because when I read this book again, a memory that I've apparently long suppressed came rushing back to me. Mallory opens this book prattling away in her journal. Her final line was "If only I were 13 instead of 11. Life would be a picnic." I totally stole that line! I thought it was hilarious. To be fair, I was maybe 8, tops. More likely I was 6 or 7 (I was a very advanced reader. No, seriously, I was. By the time I was 10, I read Gone with the Wind, Little Women, and Pride and Prejudice all for the first time.)
But anyway, here's what happened: I remember sitting in our basement playroom at home, mad about something, and I decided to make a "Hate List" as this was before I actually had a proper journal. So I took a piece of paper, labeled it "My Hate List" and wrote a list of things I hated, ending with "Not having Christmas at Grandma's." I don't remember any of the other things on the list. Anyway, I wrote all the things on my list and then added the line "If I only I were 13, life would be a picnic." And of course, my nosy mother found my list, laughed at it (Thanks a lot, Mom. Maybe if you'd taken me seriously as a kid, I wouldn't have felt the need to move across the country. Think about that the next time you start harping on me for my life choices) and then was like "What is this about being 13? Where on earth did you come up with that?" so I had to show her this book and then she laughed some more and then she showed my relatives my hate list, like it was just so funny, and I HATE being laughed at (I bet that was on the list!) and wow! I clearly have some residual anger, so I'm just going to move on into the book before it becomes even more blatantly obvious once again that perhaps reliving my childhood through BSC books is not the best idea, and it might be more prudent for me to relive my childhood with the help of a competent and licensed therapist.
Oh, boy, I'm about to have to admit to something pretty darn embarrassing. Apparently, I didn't always realize what a dingbat Mallory Pike is. Why, you ask? Because when I read this book again, a memory that I've apparently long suppressed came rushing back to me. Mallory opens this book prattling away in her journal. Her final line was "If only I were 13 instead of 11. Life would be a picnic." I totally stole that line! I thought it was hilarious. To be fair, I was maybe 8, tops. More likely I was 6 or 7 (I was a very advanced reader. No, seriously, I was. By the time I was 10, I read Gone with the Wind, Little Women, and Pride and Prejudice all for the first time.)
But anyway, here's what happened: I remember sitting in our basement playroom at home, mad about something, and I decided to make a "Hate List" as this was before I actually had a proper journal. So I took a piece of paper, labeled it "My Hate List" and wrote a list of things I hated, ending with "Not having Christmas at Grandma's." I don't remember any of the other things on the list. Anyway, I wrote all the things on my list and then added the line "If I only I were 13, life would be a picnic." And of course, my nosy mother found my list, laughed at it (Thanks a lot, Mom. Maybe if you'd taken me seriously as a kid, I wouldn't have felt the need to move across the country. Think about that the next time you start harping on me for my life choices) and then was like "What is this about being 13? Where on earth did you come up with that?" so I had to show her this book and then she laughed some more and then she showed my relatives my hate list, like it was just so funny, and I HATE being laughed at (I bet that was on the list!) and wow! I clearly have some residual anger, so I'm just going to move on into the book before it becomes even more blatantly obvious once again that perhaps reliving my childhood through BSC books is not the best idea, and it might be more prudent for me to relive my childhood with the help of a competent and licensed therapist.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
She's home for good!
The Baby-sitters Club #28: Welcome Back, Stacey!
Stacey's back! Stacey's back! Stacey's back! And the peasants rejoice! Or at least, I do.
I know it's a little weird, because this is actually a really sad, depressing book, but I remember loving it as a kid. I think there are a couple reasons for this. One, I was obsessed with New York, and I loved any book that was set there. I loved reading about Stacey (and Laine's) doorman apartment buildings, all the things that Stacey would miss if she moved, things like Bloomingdale's and Central Park and the Hard Rock Cafe, things that I had barely even ever heard of, much less seen, and I was sad that Stacey left because we wouldn't get to hear about them as much. Also, and let me just preface this by saying that I know I'm going to hell, but I was deeply intrigued by the divorce. Divorce really wasn't common in my hometown, at least not amongst my friends' parents or my parents' friends, the people I knew. I was fascinated by it. I spent a really long time agonizing over which parent I would live with if my own split up, despite the fact that I can barely even remember them ever fighting when I was young. (Conclusion: probably my dad. Sorry, Mom, but I figured the others would probably stick with you, and I couldn't leave Dad alone. I've always been a daddy's girl.)
So Stacey's baby-sitting for Henry and Grace, and when she gets home she can hear her parents fighting from outside the door. Stacey, at least, unlike her parents, has the good grace to be ashamed of what the neighbors might think. Good lord, I won't even watch my TV at a high volume for fear of my neighbors hearing it, I can't imagine having a screaming match. Of course, this might be primarily due to embarrassment over my entertainment choices. I'd really hate to have my neighbors figure out exactly how many "Full House" reruns I watch.
Stacey's back! Stacey's back! Stacey's back! And the peasants rejoice! Or at least, I do.
I know it's a little weird, because this is actually a really sad, depressing book, but I remember loving it as a kid. I think there are a couple reasons for this. One, I was obsessed with New York, and I loved any book that was set there. I loved reading about Stacey (and Laine's) doorman apartment buildings, all the things that Stacey would miss if she moved, things like Bloomingdale's and Central Park and the Hard Rock Cafe, things that I had barely even ever heard of, much less seen, and I was sad that Stacey left because we wouldn't get to hear about them as much. Also, and let me just preface this by saying that I know I'm going to hell, but I was deeply intrigued by the divorce. Divorce really wasn't common in my hometown, at least not amongst my friends' parents or my parents' friends, the people I knew. I was fascinated by it. I spent a really long time agonizing over which parent I would live with if my own split up, despite the fact that I can barely even remember them ever fighting when I was young. (Conclusion: probably my dad. Sorry, Mom, but I figured the others would probably stick with you, and I couldn't leave Dad alone. I've always been a daddy's girl.)
So Stacey's baby-sitting for Henry and Grace, and when she gets home she can hear her parents fighting from outside the door. Stacey, at least, unlike her parents, has the good grace to be ashamed of what the neighbors might think. Good lord, I won't even watch my TV at a high volume for fear of my neighbors hearing it, I can't imagine having a screaming match. Of course, this might be primarily due to embarrassment over my entertainment choices. I'd really hate to have my neighbors figure out exactly how many "Full House" reruns I watch.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Why are the BSC members making it so hard for Mallory to join the club?
The Baby-sitters Club #14: Hello, Mallory
Oh, if only they'd made it a little harder. So, Mal wants to join the BSC. The BSC needs to replace Stacey. (sniff. Stacey! Don't leave us!) Sounds like a match made in heaven, right? And yet if only we knew what fresh hell awaited us with every Mal-book.
But this is the first one, and we are so young, and so innocent. Much like Mal herself.
Mal is thrilled to be invited to a BSC meeting to see if she might be appropriate for the club. She dresses up for the meeting. And by dresses up for the meeting, I mean “Dresses like a 6 year old” for the meeting. I’m pretty sure that CLAIRE would know better than to wear a red jumper that says “Mallory” across the front, and white tights with red hearts on them. If I'm not mistaken, my mother made me wear a similar outfit, for my PRE-SCHOOL CLASS PHOTO. And even then I knew better. If you can’t remember your name without looking in the mirror, you have no business baby-sitting.
Oh, if only they'd made it a little harder. So, Mal wants to join the BSC. The BSC needs to replace Stacey. (sniff. Stacey! Don't leave us!) Sounds like a match made in heaven, right? And yet if only we knew what fresh hell awaited us with every Mal-book.
But this is the first one, and we are so young, and so innocent. Much like Mal herself.
Mal is thrilled to be invited to a BSC meeting to see if she might be appropriate for the club. She dresses up for the meeting. And by dresses up for the meeting, I mean “Dresses like a 6 year old” for the meeting. I’m pretty sure that CLAIRE would know better than to wear a red jumper that says “Mallory” across the front, and white tights with red hearts on them. If I'm not mistaken, my mother made me wear a similar outfit, for my PRE-SCHOOL CLASS PHOTO. And even then I knew better. If you can’t remember your name without looking in the mirror, you have no business baby-sitting.
Friday, May 29, 2009
This was one sitting job Jessi couldn't resist!
The Baby-sitters Club #22: Jessi Ramsey, Pet-sitter
Okay, dear readers, fear not. I've not forgotten you. Much as I would love to read and recap the BSC full-time, the world does not see the value in this (YET) and therefore, even BSC recappers must have day jobs. And sometimes, those day jobs go haywire and take over your life.
Speaking of jobs going haywire, Jessi Ramsey has decided, against Kristy's better judgment, to take a pet-sitting job. Oh Jessi, when will you ever learn that going against Kristy's better judgment is never, ever a good idea? See, the Braddocks are out of town and Jessi's dance school is "taking a break" (um, okay? Never heard of any fancy pants dance school deciding they should just shut down for a week, but let's just roll with it, all right?) so Jessi has free afternoons for once. And it just so happens that the BSC gets a frantic call from Mr. and Mrs. Mancusi, whose pet-sitter backed out on them right before the trip of a lifetime. Kristy, remembering her experience with Buffy and Pinky, is all offended, but Jessi thinks it sounds fun and talks her into letting her take the job.
Okay, dear readers, fear not. I've not forgotten you. Much as I would love to read and recap the BSC full-time, the world does not see the value in this (YET) and therefore, even BSC recappers must have day jobs. And sometimes, those day jobs go haywire and take over your life.
Speaking of jobs going haywire, Jessi Ramsey has decided, against Kristy's better judgment, to take a pet-sitting job. Oh Jessi, when will you ever learn that going against Kristy's better judgment is never, ever a good idea? See, the Braddocks are out of town and Jessi's dance school is "taking a break" (um, okay? Never heard of any fancy pants dance school deciding they should just shut down for a week, but let's just roll with it, all right?) so Jessi has free afternoons for once. And it just so happens that the BSC gets a frantic call from Mr. and Mrs. Mancusi, whose pet-sitter backed out on them right before the trip of a lifetime. Kristy, remembering her experience with Buffy and Pinky, is all offended, but Jessi thinks it sounds fun and talks her into letting her take the job.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
How could anyone accuse Claudia of cheating?
The Baby-Sitters Club #40: Claudia and the Middle School Mystery
Hmmm. This book was a pleasant surprise. I knew I'd read it before, but only because I remembered the outfit that the blonde girl (Shawna Riverson?) on the cover wore. I totally had a very similar red and white striped sweater and white skirt that was fabulous, while Claudia's cover outfit looks like something my best friend's dad would have worn while feeding the pigs in their barn. Ugh, Claud.
So Janine helps Claudia study for her math test and for once she feels really good about it. After taking the test, she feels like she did really well, so she's thrilled when she gets it back with an A-. Except then, at the end of class, the teacher calls her and Shawna Riverson forward to compare their tests: they're exactly the same! Seriously, who's this dumb? Who doesn't know that you have to change at least a few things when you're cheating off the person sitting next to you? I guess if you're that certain you can frame the other person as the cheater it doesn't matter, but really, Shawna Riverson? That seems like quite a risk. Maybe you are not as smart as Claudia seems to think.
Hmmm. This book was a pleasant surprise. I knew I'd read it before, but only because I remembered the outfit that the blonde girl (Shawna Riverson?) on the cover wore. I totally had a very similar red and white striped sweater and white skirt that was fabulous, while Claudia's cover outfit looks like something my best friend's dad would have worn while feeding the pigs in their barn. Ugh, Claud.
So Janine helps Claudia study for her math test and for once she feels really good about it. After taking the test, she feels like she did really well, so she's thrilled when she gets it back with an A-. Except then, at the end of class, the teacher calls her and Shawna Riverson forward to compare their tests: they're exactly the same! Seriously, who's this dumb? Who doesn't know that you have to change at least a few things when you're cheating off the person sitting next to you? I guess if you're that certain you can frame the other person as the cheater it doesn't matter, but really, Shawna Riverson? That seems like quite a risk. Maybe you are not as smart as Claudia seems to think.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
This is Dawn's replacement?
The Baby-sitters Club #68: Jessi and the Bad Baby-sitter
No, this is most definitely not Dawn's replacement. Hmmph. As if anyone could ever replace Dawn. Trust me, Jessi, both you and Mal couldn't replace Stacey, there's no way this new twit is ever going to replace Dawn. If we are even going to attempt to replace Dawn, the only acceptable Dawn substitute is Shannon Kilbourne. I have loved Shannon Kilbourne since the moment she was introduced, walking her Bernese Mountain Dog named Astrid of Greenville through the hoity-toity streets of Kristy's new neighborhood. I'm still bitter that she never really got any books of her own.
Well, the Dawn-inator has shipped out for California, despite the fact that I just don't believe she would do that. Wasn't Jeff leaving enough? Poor Sharon. Poor BSC, too, as Dawn's absense and Mallory's (as yet a) mystery illness have left them crazy-busy with business. The BSC is overwhelmed, so Jessi suggests that her new friend Wendy might want to join the club. Wendy comes to a meeting and is sort-of interviewed by Kristy, but the meeting is so busy that she doesn't really get put through the paces the way Dawn, Jessi, Mal, and even Stacey were. When Kristy Thomas wants to grill you, she can rival even Jack Byrnes from Meet the Parents. Overwhlemed and anxious, Kristy agrees to let Wendy go on a sitting job with Jessi to be evaluated before being offered a spot in the club.
No, this is most definitely not Dawn's replacement. Hmmph. As if anyone could ever replace Dawn. Trust me, Jessi, both you and Mal couldn't replace Stacey, there's no way this new twit is ever going to replace Dawn. If we are even going to attempt to replace Dawn, the only acceptable Dawn substitute is Shannon Kilbourne. I have loved Shannon Kilbourne since the moment she was introduced, walking her Bernese Mountain Dog named Astrid of Greenville through the hoity-toity streets of Kristy's new neighborhood. I'm still bitter that she never really got any books of her own.
Well, the Dawn-inator has shipped out for California, despite the fact that I just don't believe she would do that. Wasn't Jeff leaving enough? Poor Sharon. Poor BSC, too, as Dawn's absense and Mallory's (as yet a) mystery illness have left them crazy-busy with business. The BSC is overwhelmed, so Jessi suggests that her new friend Wendy might want to join the club. Wendy comes to a meeting and is sort-of interviewed by Kristy, but the meeting is so busy that she doesn't really get put through the paces the way Dawn, Jessi, Mal, and even Stacey were. When Kristy Thomas wants to grill you, she can rival even Jack Byrnes from Meet the Parents. Overwhlemed and anxious, Kristy agrees to let Wendy go on a sitting job with Jessi to be evaluated before being offered a spot in the club.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Guess which one's the walking disaster!
The Baby-sitters Club #20: Kristy and the Walking Disaster
Oh, what better time to blog about Kristy's Krushers than while watching my beloved Detroit Tigers stomp all over the dastardly Minnesota Twins? That's right, I'm a baseball addict. But here's the thing: I wasn't always, which is probably why I honestly can't remember if I read this book as a kid or not. Parts of it seemed vaguely familiar, but I really don't remember it the way I remember most of these BSC books, and I wouldn't put it past Baby-Sarah to totally not read something dealing with sports, of which I was not a fan. On the other hand, Baby-Sarah once got bored enough on a family camping trip to explore the wide world of my brother's Matt Christopher books, and ended up enjoying them, although I could not for the life of me grasp the title "The Year Mom Won the Pennant." I spent the whole trip trying to figure out what a "Year Mom" was, even after I read the stupid book. Also, one of the sports books was about some brothers, one who was good at football and one who wasn't, and then they switched places and the not good kid tried to play football and he got penalized for "clipping" and it was explained in great detail that I tried desperately to follow, but to this day I have absolutely no idea what "clipping" entails, unless it's referring to toenails. And now I just grossed myself out and went off on a wild tangent, so let's just get back to Kristy now, shall we?
We've got Kristy's sibs and their friends wanting to play softball, but basically sucking too badly to even join Little League. I don't know, my brothers played Little League back in the late 80s/early 90s, before it became the tutti-frutti, "everybody wins", boring-ass lameness that it is today (My parents were the statisticians for my older brother's 5 year old t-ball team. I kid you not. There was a special record book and everything. Is it any wonder that we all grew up to be cutthroat competitors?) but even in that era, any kid who wanted play could play. I mean, who's stopping these kids from joining a team? Is it really just that they're embarrassed? Because, honestly, that's stupid.
Oh, what better time to blog about Kristy's Krushers than while watching my beloved Detroit Tigers stomp all over the dastardly Minnesota Twins? That's right, I'm a baseball addict. But here's the thing: I wasn't always, which is probably why I honestly can't remember if I read this book as a kid or not. Parts of it seemed vaguely familiar, but I really don't remember it the way I remember most of these BSC books, and I wouldn't put it past Baby-Sarah to totally not read something dealing with sports, of which I was not a fan. On the other hand, Baby-Sarah once got bored enough on a family camping trip to explore the wide world of my brother's Matt Christopher books, and ended up enjoying them, although I could not for the life of me grasp the title "The Year Mom Won the Pennant." I spent the whole trip trying to figure out what a "Year Mom" was, even after I read the stupid book. Also, one of the sports books was about some brothers, one who was good at football and one who wasn't, and then they switched places and the not good kid tried to play football and he got penalized for "clipping" and it was explained in great detail that I tried desperately to follow, but to this day I have absolutely no idea what "clipping" entails, unless it's referring to toenails. And now I just grossed myself out and went off on a wild tangent, so let's just get back to Kristy now, shall we?
We've got Kristy's sibs and their friends wanting to play softball, but basically sucking too badly to even join Little League. I don't know, my brothers played Little League back in the late 80s/early 90s, before it became the tutti-frutti, "everybody wins", boring-ass lameness that it is today (My parents were the statisticians for my older brother's 5 year old t-ball team. I kid you not. There was a special record book and everything. Is it any wonder that we all grew up to be cutthroat competitors?) but even in that era, any kid who wanted play could play. I mean, who's stopping these kids from joining a team? Is it really just that they're embarrassed? Because, honestly, that's stupid.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Mary Anne has a crush-- on a boy baby-sitter!
The Baby-sitters Club #10: Logan Likes Mary Anne!
Eh, Logan. You could do better.
Well, it's the first day of the BSC's interminable 8th grade year and guess who Mary Anne spies across the crowded cafeteria? None other than her new celebrity crush, Cam Geary. Except, wait!, Stacey tells her, that's not Cam Geary. That's Logan Bruno, recnet transplant from Louisville, Kentucky (that would be Loovull, as we are treated to some delightful stereotyping of Logan's accent.) MA's heart is all aflutter.
The BSC has a huge influx of business thanks to some recent adertising, and it's getting to be too much for them to handle. Logan eavesdrops on their convo at lunch one day, and announces that he used to do a lot of baby-sitting. Mostly, this seems like a ploy to be able to oome sit by the tongue-tied Mary Anne. The BSC invites him to come to one of their meetings.
Eh, Logan. You could do better.
Well, it's the first day of the BSC's interminable 8th grade year and guess who Mary Anne spies across the crowded cafeteria? None other than her new celebrity crush, Cam Geary. Except, wait!, Stacey tells her, that's not Cam Geary. That's Logan Bruno, recnet transplant from Louisville, Kentucky (that would be Loovull, as we are treated to some delightful stereotyping of Logan's accent.) MA's heart is all aflutter.
The BSC has a huge influx of business thanks to some recent adertising, and it's getting to be too much for them to handle. Logan eavesdrops on their convo at lunch one day, and announces that he used to do a lot of baby-sitting. Mostly, this seems like a ploy to be able to oome sit by the tongue-tied Mary Anne. The BSC invites him to come to one of their meetings.
Friday, April 24, 2009
This is going to be one long night!
The Baby-sitters Club #44: Dawn and the Big Sleepover
Oh, I used to love having pen pals. They were like the blogs of my youth. If I could go back and read all the tortured heartache I poured out to other girls in far off exotic places like, well, New Jersey... I'm sure I'd just be humiliated at what a loser I was back then. I must have run through at least 10 pen pals in my youth, acquired through school projects, summer camp bonding, and the back of this creepy Catholic kids magazine my grandma used to give us. None of them ever really stuck, but I still have most of their letters. I just wish I had mine too, because I have a feeling the back and forth would be pretty hysterical to read now.
Well, Stoneybrook Elementary has paired up with a school on a Zuni reservation in New Mexico, and I'm slightly embarassed to admit that I had to Google it, but yes, that is a real tribe. I wonder how they feel about being used as a fundraising object by a bunch of snotty East Coast kids? Anyway, SES and this Zuni elementary are sister schools, which mainly seems to involve having the kids write letters back and forth. All the SES kids love it, which, I totally understand because it is super-fun to get notes from other people, even when you are old and live far from all your friends and family and check your Facebook page 27 times a day for comments that never seem to come not that I know anyone who does that.
Ahem. Moving on...
Oh, I used to love having pen pals. They were like the blogs of my youth. If I could go back and read all the tortured heartache I poured out to other girls in far off exotic places like, well, New Jersey... I'm sure I'd just be humiliated at what a loser I was back then. I must have run through at least 10 pen pals in my youth, acquired through school projects, summer camp bonding, and the back of this creepy Catholic kids magazine my grandma used to give us. None of them ever really stuck, but I still have most of their letters. I just wish I had mine too, because I have a feeling the back and forth would be pretty hysterical to read now.
Well, Stoneybrook Elementary has paired up with a school on a Zuni reservation in New Mexico, and I'm slightly embarassed to admit that I had to Google it, but yes, that is a real tribe. I wonder how they feel about being used as a fundraising object by a bunch of snotty East Coast kids? Anyway, SES and this Zuni elementary are sister schools, which mainly seems to involve having the kids write letters back and forth. All the SES kids love it, which, I totally understand because it is super-fun to get notes from other people, even when you are old and live far from all your friends and family and check your Facebook page 27 times a day for comments that never seem to come not that I know anyone who does that.
Ahem. Moving on...
Thursday, April 23, 2009
They wish they all could be...
The Baby-sitters Club Super Special #5: California Girls!
So in honor of today's delightful weather (almost 60 degrees! Almost May! Way to be global warming! Oh, wait. Not.)let's travel with the girls as they visit California, someplace I've, sadly, never been.
So the BSC has won 10 grand on a lottery ticket, and apparently, there are no taxes in the state of Connecticut, so that works out to $1428.57 each, according to Dawn. They have one of their never-explained random two-week breaks from school, and decide to blow their wad on a trip out to Cali to visit Dawn's dad and Jeff (yay, Jeff!) in someplace called Palo City, which I guess is near LA, but not anywhere near San Diego (Dawn totally rips on Jessi for making that mistake) and I guess not by San Fran like I first thought (I guess that's Palo Alto? Where Stanford is?) Forgive me, I have no concept of California geography. If someone would like to pay for me to take a trip out there for BSC research purposes, I'd be happy to correct myself, but for now, I'm just going to assume it's somewhere LA-ish.
And another thing, all the BSC parents are okay with this? I mean, have any of them ever even met Mr. Schafer? And I'd wager a strong bet that none of them even really know who Carol (Mr. S's new girlfriend) is. My parents certainly wouldn't let me go galivanting across the freaking country to stay with some dude they'd never met, even if he was my friend's father. And spending all their winnings on it? The same Richard Spier who in book 1 wouldn't let his daughter spend $3.00 of her baby-sitting money on pizza is letting her blow $1500 on a trip to California to visit his new wife's ex? Seriously, people? Seriously?
Misgivings aside, the BSC is in Cali. Let's see how they fare, shall we?
So in honor of today's delightful weather (almost 60 degrees! Almost May! Way to be global warming! Oh, wait. Not.)let's travel with the girls as they visit California, someplace I've, sadly, never been.
So the BSC has won 10 grand on a lottery ticket, and apparently, there are no taxes in the state of Connecticut, so that works out to $1428.57 each, according to Dawn. They have one of their never-explained random two-week breaks from school, and decide to blow their wad on a trip out to Cali to visit Dawn's dad and Jeff (yay, Jeff!) in someplace called Palo City, which I guess is near LA, but not anywhere near San Diego (Dawn totally rips on Jessi for making that mistake) and I guess not by San Fran like I first thought (I guess that's Palo Alto? Where Stanford is?) Forgive me, I have no concept of California geography. If someone would like to pay for me to take a trip out there for BSC research purposes, I'd be happy to correct myself, but for now, I'm just going to assume it's somewhere LA-ish.
And another thing, all the BSC parents are okay with this? I mean, have any of them ever even met Mr. Schafer? And I'd wager a strong bet that none of them even really know who Carol (Mr. S's new girlfriend) is. My parents certainly wouldn't let me go galivanting across the freaking country to stay with some dude they'd never met, even if he was my friend's father. And spending all their winnings on it? The same Richard Spier who in book 1 wouldn't let his daughter spend $3.00 of her baby-sitting money on pizza is letting her blow $1500 on a trip to California to visit his new wife's ex? Seriously, people? Seriously?
Misgivings aside, the BSC is in Cali. Let's see how they fare, shall we?
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Four friends and baby-sitting-- what could be more fun?
The Baby-sitters Club #1: Kristy's Great Idea
Ready, kids? This is the one that started it all. There's only one word for it: CLASSIC.
The original Fab Four are just beginning their seventh grade year. One evening, Kristy's mom brings home a pizza because she has to ask a favor of her older kids: David Michael's baby-sitter has canceled and she needs someone to watch him after school the next day. Charlie, Sam, and Kristy are all busy. Poor Mrs. Thomas has to let her pizza get cold while she calls everyone in the neighborhood looking for a sitter. It takes, what, five minutes to eat a slice of pizza? Why couldn't she eat and then call? I highly doubt that if she doesn't call RIGHT NOW she's going to miss out on the last available sitter in Stoneybrook. But let's overlook that, because it brings the world KRISTY'S GREAT IDEA.
Make one call, reach a whole bunch of sitters! Genius in its simplicity. So Kristy flashes her idea to Mary Anne through the window that night (MA is not allowed to talk on the phone at this point. I never really understood this. What is so bad about talking on the phone? I mean, especially if she's done her homework and everything? What does Mr. Spier think she should be doing with her time? It must have been awfully boring to be Mary Anne.) Anyway, MA loves the idea, so they bring it up with Claudia the next day as well. Claud also loves it, and suggests one more member, her new friend from New York, your favorite and mine, Stacey McGill. They decide to meet MWF from 5:30 to 6 in Claud's room, since she has her own phone number and they choose officer positions: KT is the prez, obvi, Claud is her Veep, MA gets to be secretary, and Stace, the alleged math whiz is the treasurer. Throw in some advertising and we're off and running!
Ready, kids? This is the one that started it all. There's only one word for it: CLASSIC.
The original Fab Four are just beginning their seventh grade year. One evening, Kristy's mom brings home a pizza because she has to ask a favor of her older kids: David Michael's baby-sitter has canceled and she needs someone to watch him after school the next day. Charlie, Sam, and Kristy are all busy. Poor Mrs. Thomas has to let her pizza get cold while she calls everyone in the neighborhood looking for a sitter. It takes, what, five minutes to eat a slice of pizza? Why couldn't she eat and then call? I highly doubt that if she doesn't call RIGHT NOW she's going to miss out on the last available sitter in Stoneybrook. But let's overlook that, because it brings the world KRISTY'S GREAT IDEA.
Make one call, reach a whole bunch of sitters! Genius in its simplicity. So Kristy flashes her idea to Mary Anne through the window that night (MA is not allowed to talk on the phone at this point. I never really understood this. What is so bad about talking on the phone? I mean, especially if she's done her homework and everything? What does Mr. Spier think she should be doing with her time? It must have been awfully boring to be Mary Anne.) Anyway, MA loves the idea, so they bring it up with Claudia the next day as well. Claud also loves it, and suggests one more member, her new friend from New York, your favorite and mine, Stacey McGill. They decide to meet MWF from 5:30 to 6 in Claud's room, since she has her own phone number and they choose officer positions: KT is the prez, obvi, Claud is her Veep, MA gets to be secretary, and Stace, the alleged math whiz is the treasurer. Throw in some advertising and we're off and running!
Monday, April 20, 2009
The Arnold twins aren't just bad--they're double trouble!
The Baby-sitters Club #21: Mallory and the Trouble with Twins
Oh, I so wanted to be a twin when I was a kid. But now that I look back on it, I would have been a horrible twin. I don't share well. I'm kind of a self-centered bitch and I'm definitely an attention whore (but a lovable one!) To this day, I hate being given the same present as my sister, who's only three years younger than me (yes, I'm also an ungrateful bitch. I am infamous in my family for being unable to keep disgust and disappointment off my face on Christmas morning.) That said, while I understand and sympathize with the twins' desire for individuality, I pretty much hate everyone in this book. The twins are just annoying, their mother is a wanna-be Mrs. Prezzioso with none of Mrs. P's charm, and of course, there's my old nemesis, Mallory Pike. We all knew that sooner or later I'd have to write about Mal, but in the interest of not repeating myself, I'll try to keep my loathing mostly to myself.
Okay, so Mal gets a regular sitting job for the Arnold twins, Marilyn and Carolyn. Right away, I hate their parents. So the twins are nice enough at first, but then Mal has to go and be all "Oh, aren't you two just the cutest little things! You look exactly the same and it's so darling, blah, blah, blah" which of course the twins don't want to hear, because what 8-year-old does, twins or not? I mean, I went through a phase for about 4 years where I yelled at anyone who called me cute. I did not want to be cute, I wanted to be cool. DUH, Mal. So the twins take off their name bracelets (again, I hate their parents) and proceed to talk in their own language and completely disregard any and all instructions Mal attempts to impose. They are annoying, but since it's Mallory they are harassing, I am slightly more inclined to be on their side. If it were my beloved Stacey they were harassing, I'd kick their asses from here to next Thursday. But then, it wouldn't have taken Stacey the entire stupid book to figure out how to deal with them.
Oh, I so wanted to be a twin when I was a kid. But now that I look back on it, I would have been a horrible twin. I don't share well. I'm kind of a self-centered bitch and I'm definitely an attention whore (but a lovable one!) To this day, I hate being given the same present as my sister, who's only three years younger than me (yes, I'm also an ungrateful bitch. I am infamous in my family for being unable to keep disgust and disappointment off my face on Christmas morning.) That said, while I understand and sympathize with the twins' desire for individuality, I pretty much hate everyone in this book. The twins are just annoying, their mother is a wanna-be Mrs. Prezzioso with none of Mrs. P's charm, and of course, there's my old nemesis, Mallory Pike. We all knew that sooner or later I'd have to write about Mal, but in the interest of not repeating myself, I'll try to keep my loathing mostly to myself.
Okay, so Mal gets a regular sitting job for the Arnold twins, Marilyn and Carolyn. Right away, I hate their parents. So the twins are nice enough at first, but then Mal has to go and be all "Oh, aren't you two just the cutest little things! You look exactly the same and it's so darling, blah, blah, blah" which of course the twins don't want to hear, because what 8-year-old does, twins or not? I mean, I went through a phase for about 4 years where I yelled at anyone who called me cute. I did not want to be cute, I wanted to be cool. DUH, Mal. So the twins take off their name bracelets (again, I hate their parents) and proceed to talk in their own language and completely disregard any and all instructions Mal attempts to impose. They are annoying, but since it's Mallory they are harassing, I am slightly more inclined to be on their side. If it were my beloved Stacey they were harassing, I'd kick their asses from here to next Thursday. But then, it wouldn't have taken Stacey the entire stupid book to figure out how to deal with them.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Claudia thought she'd never have to say good-bye.
The Baby-sitters Club #26: Claudia and the Sad Good-bye
Now this is why I read these books. Brava, Ann M. Martin, brava. No, people, I'm being totally serious. I knew right from the start that I would like this one. I remember thinking it was so sad when I read it as a kid (I might even have cried. And as you've probably guessed, I am not a crier. I'm a judger, and judgers can't be criers.) And that was even before I went through the harrowing experience of losing my own beloved grandfather in a very similar way. I was Janine's age and my sister was Claudia's age when it happened (My brothers do not fit into my analogy, so we will conveniently forget them for the moment.) Much like Mimi, we knew my DziaDzia was sick with cancer, but no one expected that when he went to the hospital that Monday morning, he would be gone by Tuesday afternoon. At least, if they did expect it, no one ever told us kids. I felt blindsided and betrayed, and reading about Claudia brought it all vividly back, because Claudia (and Janine's) responses are pitch-perfect. This is exactly how kids in this situation react, and I know, because I lived it.
Okay, so backing up and stepping away from my personal drama for the moment, we all remember that Mimi had a stroke during the summer after Claud's seventh grade year. Since then, she's been fine, but definitely not great. She's regained some mobility and speech functions, enough that she is able to talk with Claud and have special tea, and cook dinner, which I'm not sure is the best idea, but... You know what? Forgive me, but I'm finding it really hard to snark on this plotline, so just for this book, I'm going to just go ahead and tell it like it is. We'll return to your regularly scheduled judgemental and slightly mocking tone for the next report.
Now this is why I read these books. Brava, Ann M. Martin, brava. No, people, I'm being totally serious. I knew right from the start that I would like this one. I remember thinking it was so sad when I read it as a kid (I might even have cried. And as you've probably guessed, I am not a crier. I'm a judger, and judgers can't be criers.) And that was even before I went through the harrowing experience of losing my own beloved grandfather in a very similar way. I was Janine's age and my sister was Claudia's age when it happened (My brothers do not fit into my analogy, so we will conveniently forget them for the moment.) Much like Mimi, we knew my DziaDzia was sick with cancer, but no one expected that when he went to the hospital that Monday morning, he would be gone by Tuesday afternoon. At least, if they did expect it, no one ever told us kids. I felt blindsided and betrayed, and reading about Claudia brought it all vividly back, because Claudia (and Janine's) responses are pitch-perfect. This is exactly how kids in this situation react, and I know, because I lived it.
Okay, so backing up and stepping away from my personal drama for the moment, we all remember that Mimi had a stroke during the summer after Claud's seventh grade year. Since then, she's been fine, but definitely not great. She's regained some mobility and speech functions, enough that she is able to talk with Claud and have special tea, and cook dinner, which I'm not sure is the best idea, but... You know what? Forgive me, but I'm finding it really hard to snark on this plotline, so just for this book, I'm going to just go ahead and tell it like it is. We'll return to your regularly scheduled judgemental and slightly mocking tone for the next report.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Babies on board!
The Baby-sitters Club #45: Kristy and the Baby Parade
Oh, I totally remembered this book as soon as I started reading it. Why, you ask? Because when I was eleven, I too took one of those Red Cross-sponsored baby-sitting courses like the "infant care course" the girls took. It was a one-day course in the summer at the local community center. And I too thought that it made me the shiz-nit. I liked to tell people that I was a Red Cross-certified baby-sitter, and I carried the little card with the Red Cross lady's signature on it everywhere I went, in case anyone wanted me to prove it. However, pretty much all I remember from the actual class is the pizza we ordered for lunch.
So the Baby-sitters are baby-crazy these days. Mrs. Prezzioso wants a sitter to watch Jenny and four-month-old Andrea on a regular basis, but she wants that person to take an infant care course first. I have to say, if I were really uncertain about whether or not someone were capable of caring for my baby, her attendance at one of those Red Cross seminars would not particularly sway me. But apparently, Mrs. P does not share my concerns, and so Kristy takes the job and signs up for the course. Then, the rest of the BSC decides that they want to attend, too. After all, according to Claudia, then maybe they can advertise themselves as "infant care specialists." Um, after a few hours in the basement of the community center? In that case, my baby-sitting class plus my day camp counselor training ought to make me Exalted High Queen Baby-sitter over All the Universe. I wonder how that would look on my resume.
Oh, I totally remembered this book as soon as I started reading it. Why, you ask? Because when I was eleven, I too took one of those Red Cross-sponsored baby-sitting courses like the "infant care course" the girls took. It was a one-day course in the summer at the local community center. And I too thought that it made me the shiz-nit. I liked to tell people that I was a Red Cross-certified baby-sitter, and I carried the little card with the Red Cross lady's signature on it everywhere I went, in case anyone wanted me to prove it. However, pretty much all I remember from the actual class is the pizza we ordered for lunch.
So the Baby-sitters are baby-crazy these days. Mrs. Prezzioso wants a sitter to watch Jenny and four-month-old Andrea on a regular basis, but she wants that person to take an infant care course first. I have to say, if I were really uncertain about whether or not someone were capable of caring for my baby, her attendance at one of those Red Cross seminars would not particularly sway me. But apparently, Mrs. P does not share my concerns, and so Kristy takes the job and signs up for the course. Then, the rest of the BSC decides that they want to attend, too. After all, according to Claudia, then maybe they can advertise themselves as "infant care specialists." Um, after a few hours in the basement of the community center? In that case, my baby-sitting class plus my day camp counselor training ought to make me Exalted High Queen Baby-sitter over All the Universe. I wonder how that would look on my resume.
Friday, April 3, 2009
When is Mary Anne's bad luck going to end?
The Baby-sitters Club #17: Mary Anne's Bad-Luck Mystery
I don't really get Halloween. I mean, I enjoy a good masquerade ball as much as the next girl (actually, I've never been to a masquerade ball, but I have no doubt that I would enjoy it very much, should I ever achieve my dream of travelling back to 1868 and actually getting to attend one.) And of course, I like candy far more than I probably should. What don't I like? Any day that exhorts the vast majority of the world's children to act even more like spoiled, entitled little brats than they normally do any day of the week. Any day where I am encouraged, nay, expected to dress up like Donatella Versace and squeeze into a subway car shared with a gorilla, 6 women wearing pointy black hats, and a fat guy in an orange sweatsuit who I think is supposed to be a pumpkin, but might just be a fat guy with very little fashion sense. Any day where the grocery store cashier ringing up my loaf of bread and 12-pack of Diet Coke is likely to be wearing any of the above costumes. Halloween is when the freaks come out. And I have very little patience with freaks.
But here we have arrived at a BSC Halloween, no doubt the first of many in their never-ending 8th grade year (actually, I can't think of any others at this moment, but given that they went to SMS for, like, 15 years, I'd say it's probably a pretty safe bet they celebrated other Halloweens!) Mary Anne receives a chain letter saying she and her family and friends will have bad luck if she breaks the chain. Jessi and Mal are terrified, but no one else really gives a shit. Mary Anne throws the letter away.
I don't really get Halloween. I mean, I enjoy a good masquerade ball as much as the next girl (actually, I've never been to a masquerade ball, but I have no doubt that I would enjoy it very much, should I ever achieve my dream of travelling back to 1868 and actually getting to attend one.) And of course, I like candy far more than I probably should. What don't I like? Any day that exhorts the vast majority of the world's children to act even more like spoiled, entitled little brats than they normally do any day of the week. Any day where I am encouraged, nay, expected to dress up like Donatella Versace and squeeze into a subway car shared with a gorilla, 6 women wearing pointy black hats, and a fat guy in an orange sweatsuit who I think is supposed to be a pumpkin, but might just be a fat guy with very little fashion sense. Any day where the grocery store cashier ringing up my loaf of bread and 12-pack of Diet Coke is likely to be wearing any of the above costumes. Halloween is when the freaks come out. And I have very little patience with freaks.
But here we have arrived at a BSC Halloween, no doubt the first of many in their never-ending 8th grade year (actually, I can't think of any others at this moment, but given that they went to SMS for, like, 15 years, I'd say it's probably a pretty safe bet they celebrated other Halloweens!) Mary Anne receives a chain letter saying she and her family and friends will have bad luck if she breaks the chain. Jessi and Mal are terrified, but no one else really gives a shit. Mary Anne throws the letter away.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Everybody in Stoneybrook has gone beauty-pageant crazy!
The Baby-sitters Club #15: Little Miss Stoneybrook... and Dawn
Aaah, pageantry. I lived for the Miss America pageant when I was little... and by little, I mean pretty much up until I was in high school and got a car. And a life. When I was five, I met Miss Michigan at the opening of a new McDonalds in my hometown. I was beyond thrilled. She signed a picture for me and everything. I probably still have it. I'm glad as a kid I didn't realize how lame this was. I mean, think about it. I thought being a Miss Something was like the epitome of a glamorous life, but really? She was cutting the ribbon outside a new fast-food restaurant in a town no one's ever heard of. The coolness factor of getting to use the enormous scissors notwithstanding, this is not exactly Grace Kelly's lifestyle.
Okay, then. Stoneybrook pageant time! Dawn is feeling jealous because Kristy created some weird cultlike induction ceremony to welcome Jessi and Mal to the club (as replacements for Stacey. Ha! As if anyone could ever replace Stacey. Especially them.) So when Mrs. Pike calls to offer Dawn a job helping Claire and Margo prepare for the Little Miss Stoneybrook pageant, she jumps on it as a chance to show everyone that she is a special baby-sitter too.
Aaah, pageantry. I lived for the Miss America pageant when I was little... and by little, I mean pretty much up until I was in high school and got a car. And a life. When I was five, I met Miss Michigan at the opening of a new McDonalds in my hometown. I was beyond thrilled. She signed a picture for me and everything. I probably still have it. I'm glad as a kid I didn't realize how lame this was. I mean, think about it. I thought being a Miss Something was like the epitome of a glamorous life, but really? She was cutting the ribbon outside a new fast-food restaurant in a town no one's ever heard of. The coolness factor of getting to use the enormous scissors notwithstanding, this is not exactly Grace Kelly's lifestyle.
Okay, then. Stoneybrook pageant time! Dawn is feeling jealous because Kristy created some weird cultlike induction ceremony to welcome Jessi and Mal to the club (as replacements for Stacey. Ha! As if anyone could ever replace Stacey. Especially them.) So when Mrs. Pike calls to offer Dawn a job helping Claire and Margo prepare for the Little Miss Stoneybrook pageant, she jumps on it as a chance to show everyone that she is a special baby-sitter too.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Someone--or something-- is out to get Jessi!
The Baby-sitters Club #42: Jessi and the Dance School Phantom
I like puzzles, a lot. My brain just works that way. I think it’s natural then, that I like mysteries. I really do. I like trying to figure things out from clues dropped along the way. I like that “Aha!” moment. I’d like to have been a detective, except I’m pretty sure that I’d die somewhere in the middle of my first case because intellectually, I’m a pretty good problem solver, but when it comes to common sense on the ground, or even just outrunning a bad guy, I’m toast.
Jessi, apparently, is a lot like me, a sentence I never thought I’d write, considering I am neither a dancer nor black, and Jessi is one-dimensionally defined by these two traits. However, we’re not exactly the same, because this is a BSC book, so of course, despite her lack of skill and cunning, she’s not toast. Unfortunately.
Also, this is another one where the tagline on the front bears no resemblance to the story between the covers. Someone or something? Never, at any point in the story, does Jessi or anyone else think that something other-worldly is going on. Not even Dawn. So really, jacket writer, YOU LOSE.
I like puzzles, a lot. My brain just works that way. I think it’s natural then, that I like mysteries. I really do. I like trying to figure things out from clues dropped along the way. I like that “Aha!” moment. I’d like to have been a detective, except I’m pretty sure that I’d die somewhere in the middle of my first case because intellectually, I’m a pretty good problem solver, but when it comes to common sense on the ground, or even just outrunning a bad guy, I’m toast.
Jessi, apparently, is a lot like me, a sentence I never thought I’d write, considering I am neither a dancer nor black, and Jessi is one-dimensionally defined by these two traits. However, we’re not exactly the same, because this is a BSC book, so of course, despite her lack of skill and cunning, she’s not toast. Unfortunately.
Also, this is another one where the tagline on the front bears no resemblance to the story between the covers. Someone or something? Never, at any point in the story, does Jessi or anyone else think that something other-worldly is going on. Not even Dawn. So really, jacket writer, YOU LOSE.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Claudia thinks she's adopted, and no one understands!
The Baby-sitters Club #33: Claudia and the Great Search
All right, so today we're taking a little journey to a place I like to call "Claudia-land." It's a magic place filled with misspelled words, fluorescent high-tops, and Nancy Drew books. I always have to laugh at Claudia's relationship with Nancy novels- in today's installment, Claudia tells us that her parents "don't approve of Nacy Drew because they think [she] should be reading "literature." Funny, my parents said pretty much the exact same thing about my obsession with the BSC. Grown-up Claudia would so have a blog about her adolescent Nancy Drew infatuation... Grown-up Claudia and I would totally be blog-ring buddies!
And here we are: Janine gets some big award for being a genius. Claudia feels dumb. Also, this is the first Claudia book since the one where Mimi died, so Claud is also feeling even more alienated from her family than usual. She goes snooping around in her parents' den and finds that they have like 12,000 baby photos of Janine and like, 8, of Claudia. And the few they do have are Claudia with Janine. This I can totally sympathize with. We have 57 bajillion photos of my brother and maybe 14 of me, most of which are primarily characterized by him looking like he is either about to drop me or wants to bite me. I feel ya there Claud. Claudia decides because of the baby photo thing and because she doesn't look like her parents that she must be adopted. She also finds a lockbox in her dad's desk (I totally thought he had a gun as a kid. What? That's what all my friends parents' had lockboxes for. I know, I know. My midwestern roots are showing) which she thinks must contain her adoption papers.
All right, so today we're taking a little journey to a place I like to call "Claudia-land." It's a magic place filled with misspelled words, fluorescent high-tops, and Nancy Drew books. I always have to laugh at Claudia's relationship with Nancy novels- in today's installment, Claudia tells us that her parents "don't approve of Nacy Drew because they think [she] should be reading "literature." Funny, my parents said pretty much the exact same thing about my obsession with the BSC. Grown-up Claudia would so have a blog about her adolescent Nancy Drew infatuation... Grown-up Claudia and I would totally be blog-ring buddies!
And here we are: Janine gets some big award for being a genius. Claudia feels dumb. Also, this is the first Claudia book since the one where Mimi died, so Claud is also feeling even more alienated from her family than usual. She goes snooping around in her parents' den and finds that they have like 12,000 baby photos of Janine and like, 8, of Claudia. And the few they do have are Claudia with Janine. This I can totally sympathize with. We have 57 bajillion photos of my brother and maybe 14 of me, most of which are primarily characterized by him looking like he is either about to drop me or wants to bite me. I feel ya there Claud. Claudia decides because of the baby photo thing and because she doesn't look like her parents that she must be adopted. She also finds a lockbox in her dad's desk (I totally thought he had a gun as a kid. What? That's what all my friends parents' had lockboxes for. I know, I know. My midwestern roots are showing) which she thinks must contain her adoption papers.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Jessi's learning a secret language for a very special child.
The Baby-sitters Club #16: Jessi's Secret Language
So gather 'round, kiddies. Today we're going to learn a very special lesson about tolerance and acceptance of deaf kids and black people. Stoneybrook, CT is apparently a hotbed of prejudice so much that it makes my racist, homophobic, anti-feminist hometown look like Shangri-la. To be honest, I don't really have any recollection of this book. I think it might be one of the few early BSC books that I never actually read.
So Jessi just moved into Stacey's old house (sniff. Stacey! I miss you so much!) and everyone in Stoneybrook is apparently a racist except for the BSC and all of their clients. Jessi whines about it a lot. Seriously, I'm starting to see why she and Mal are best friends. (Let me just state here and now, for the record, that I know that racism exists and that it is awful. I do not mean to make light of it, and it is my heartfelt prayer that someday we will live in a world free from all forms of prejudice. That said, STFU Jessi. Your whining makes me hate you and it has nothing to do with your race.)
The BSC gets some new clients, the Braddocks. Jessi takes a regular sitting job for them and begins to learn sign language so she can care for seven-year-old Matt, who is profoundly deaf. She picks up on it in a snap, because apparently she is good at languages. For instance, she claims to have been nearly bilingual by the end of a one-week family vacation to Mexico. Um, Jessi? Being able to say "Donde esta el bano?" and "Dos cervezas, por favor" does not make one bilingual. STFU. Again. Matt and his sister Haley are new to the neighborhood and have trouble making friends, but once the BSC introduces them to other kids, they really don't seem to have much trouble. The other kids, especially the Pikes, who are far less annoying than usual in this book, think its super fun to learn sign language, and Matt is able to play sports and games with them, so really I don't understand why such a big deal was made about Matt and Haley's (who's not deaf but feels like having to look out for Matt makes the other kids think she's weird) "different-ness." Oh wait, it's so Jessi can make parallels to how she and her sister have had trouble adjusting to Stoneybrook because no one will even talk to them because they're black. And again, seriously, is Connecticut this homogenous? I've never been there, so maybe someone can enlighten me. Would there seriously not be one other black student in the entire Stoneybrook Middle School? I just don't buy this, but if someone tells me otherwise, I'll be happy to revise my stance.
So gather 'round, kiddies. Today we're going to learn a very special lesson about tolerance and acceptance of deaf kids and black people. Stoneybrook, CT is apparently a hotbed of prejudice so much that it makes my racist, homophobic, anti-feminist hometown look like Shangri-la. To be honest, I don't really have any recollection of this book. I think it might be one of the few early BSC books that I never actually read.
So Jessi just moved into Stacey's old house (sniff. Stacey! I miss you so much!) and everyone in Stoneybrook is apparently a racist except for the BSC and all of their clients. Jessi whines about it a lot. Seriously, I'm starting to see why she and Mal are best friends. (Let me just state here and now, for the record, that I know that racism exists and that it is awful. I do not mean to make light of it, and it is my heartfelt prayer that someday we will live in a world free from all forms of prejudice. That said, STFU Jessi. Your whining makes me hate you and it has nothing to do with your race.)
The BSC gets some new clients, the Braddocks. Jessi takes a regular sitting job for them and begins to learn sign language so she can care for seven-year-old Matt, who is profoundly deaf. She picks up on it in a snap, because apparently she is good at languages. For instance, she claims to have been nearly bilingual by the end of a one-week family vacation to Mexico. Um, Jessi? Being able to say "Donde esta el bano?" and "Dos cervezas, por favor" does not make one bilingual. STFU. Again. Matt and his sister Haley are new to the neighborhood and have trouble making friends, but once the BSC introduces them to other kids, they really don't seem to have much trouble. The other kids, especially the Pikes, who are far less annoying than usual in this book, think its super fun to learn sign language, and Matt is able to play sports and games with them, so really I don't understand why such a big deal was made about Matt and Haley's (who's not deaf but feels like having to look out for Matt makes the other kids think she's weird) "different-ness." Oh wait, it's so Jessi can make parallels to how she and her sister have had trouble adjusting to Stoneybrook because no one will even talk to them because they're black. And again, seriously, is Connecticut this homogenous? I've never been there, so maybe someone can enlighten me. Would there seriously not be one other black student in the entire Stoneybrook Middle School? I just don't buy this, but if someone tells me otherwise, I'll be happy to revise my stance.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Who needs baby-sitting when there are boys around?
The Baby-sitters Club #8: Boy-Crazy Stacey
So, when I first read this book (and don't ask why I remember this, but it was the summer after 2nd grade, I was 8 years old, and I thought I was the shiz-nit because I had gone by myself to visit my Aunt Jenni and Uncle John in Indiana) but anyway, when I first read this book, I couldn't understand the term boy-crazy, with the hyphen. I had never heard this term before, and I pondered for some time before deciding that the hyphen must work like a comma, leading the title to be something like, "Boy, Crazy Stacey" as in "Dude, Stacey is NUTS" said in a condescending tone while people shake their heads at her. Which, to be fair, could also be a fairly accurate description of the book.
Stacey and Mary Anne are mother's helpers (ahem. Excuse me, according to Stacey, they are parent's helpers, as they will be helping Mr. Pike as much as Mrs, although it doesn't really seem like either Pike parent wants to spend much time with their children on this vacation. But then, who could blame them?) for two weeks in Sea City, NJ. Mainly this involves taking the kids to the beach every day, where Stacey falls in LUV with a lifeguard named Scott, which basically means that she hangs out at the foot of the lifeguard stand all day while Scott (who is eighteen and going off to Princeton that fall, despite the fact that the Scott drawn on the book cover is clearly at least 35 years old) calls her "cutie" and "love" and asks her to fix him sandwiches and get him sodas, which she takes from the Pikes' refrigerator, which I'm sure Mr. and Mrs. Pike would LUV, if they were paying any attention to their children or their 13-year-old baby-sitters.
So, when I first read this book (and don't ask why I remember this, but it was the summer after 2nd grade, I was 8 years old, and I thought I was the shiz-nit because I had gone by myself to visit my Aunt Jenni and Uncle John in Indiana) but anyway, when I first read this book, I couldn't understand the term boy-crazy, with the hyphen. I had never heard this term before, and I pondered for some time before deciding that the hyphen must work like a comma, leading the title to be something like, "Boy, Crazy Stacey" as in "Dude, Stacey is NUTS" said in a condescending tone while people shake their heads at her. Which, to be fair, could also be a fairly accurate description of the book.
Stacey and Mary Anne are mother's helpers (ahem. Excuse me, according to Stacey, they are parent's helpers, as they will be helping Mr. Pike as much as Mrs, although it doesn't really seem like either Pike parent wants to spend much time with their children on this vacation. But then, who could blame them?) for two weeks in Sea City, NJ. Mainly this involves taking the kids to the beach every day, where Stacey falls in LUV with a lifeguard named Scott, which basically means that she hangs out at the foot of the lifeguard stand all day while Scott (who is eighteen and going off to Princeton that fall, despite the fact that the Scott drawn on the book cover is clearly at least 35 years old) calls her "cutie" and "love" and asks her to fix him sandwiches and get him sodas, which she takes from the Pikes' refrigerator, which I'm sure Mr. and Mrs. Pike would LUV, if they were paying any attention to their children or their 13-year-old baby-sitters.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Can Mary Anne fix a feud between friends?
The Baby-sitters Club #125: Mary Anne in the Middle
Now here I am approaching uncharted waters. I never read much BSC above probably the 70s as a kid. If I recall correctly, by the time Dawn moved back to California, I was pretty much over it. The last book I vaguely remember reading as a kid was the one where the annoying new girl, Abby, was introduced (so just taking a wild stab in the dark here, but I think it was #90, Welcome to the BSC, Abby!) and even at that point, I remember feeling way too old for it and telling everyone I was reading it in an ironic fashion, because my friend Emily had read it and lent it to me because even though we were far too old for these books (we were like, 12 or something, but we had high opinions of ourselves), but Emily's Aunt Barbara kept sending them to her as gifts, and well, it would be rude of us not to at least read them, right?
So apparently, life at Stoneybrook Middle School has just become unbearable for Mallory Pike. People call her Spaz Girl (boy, SMS students are pretty hard-hitting with the insults, huh?) and write mean things on her locker and purposely bump into her in the hall. So Mal decides that perhaps she needs to go off to boarding school to "find herself" at the age of 11. The BSC is not so keen on that idea, but no one says anything. I think we're supposed to believe that they don't say anything because they don't want to influence her decision and want her to do what's right for her (a party line towed by her tutti-frutti parents as part of their "WOO! NO RULES!" child-raising philosophy) but I think secretly the BSC is just excited that if she goes, they won't have to listen to her whine anymore... Or am I projecting my own feelings on them? Oh well.
Now here I am approaching uncharted waters. I never read much BSC above probably the 70s as a kid. If I recall correctly, by the time Dawn moved back to California, I was pretty much over it. The last book I vaguely remember reading as a kid was the one where the annoying new girl, Abby, was introduced (so just taking a wild stab in the dark here, but I think it was #90, Welcome to the BSC, Abby!) and even at that point, I remember feeling way too old for it and telling everyone I was reading it in an ironic fashion, because my friend Emily had read it and lent it to me because even though we were far too old for these books (we were like, 12 or something, but we had high opinions of ourselves), but Emily's Aunt Barbara kept sending them to her as gifts, and well, it would be rude of us not to at least read them, right?
So apparently, life at Stoneybrook Middle School has just become unbearable for Mallory Pike. People call her Spaz Girl (boy, SMS students are pretty hard-hitting with the insults, huh?) and write mean things on her locker and purposely bump into her in the hall. So Mal decides that perhaps she needs to go off to boarding school to "find herself" at the age of 11. The BSC is not so keen on that idea, but no one says anything. I think we're supposed to believe that they don't say anything because they don't want to influence her decision and want her to do what's right for her (a party line towed by her tutti-frutti parents as part of their "WOO! NO RULES!" child-raising philosophy) but I think secretly the BSC is just excited that if she goes, they won't have to listen to her whine anymore... Or am I projecting my own feelings on them? Oh well.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Creaky stairs, spooky noises, secret passages-- it must be a ghost!
The Baby-sitters Club #9: The Ghost at Dawn's House
I was always sort of jealous of Dawn's secret passageway. And I definitely spent many an afternoon tapping walls in my basement and shining flashlights around the garage, hoping for a secret space of my own. Of course, a large portion of that might have come from growing up with six people in a 900 square foot house. I carved a secret "cave" out of junk in the basement storage room (mainly some precariously stacked luggage and reams of half used computer paper that my dad used to bring home from work for my sister and I to color on) and spent a lot of time there wishing it were a real secret, and that my dad wouldn't come traipsing in looking for his cordless drill and that my sister wouldn't be able to find me to beg me to play "Barbie Flower Shop" with her. Dawn did not have these problems and she got a secret passageway... lucky duck.
Plot: So basically, it's the end of summer in Stoneybrook and it's really hot and humid, leading to a lot of stormy weather, setting a "spooky" stage for all the "spooky" happenings at casa O'Dawn. Dawn's house was built in 1795 and she hears strange noises and, let's face it, has something of an overactive imagination, so one dreary afternoon she invites the BSC over to look for secret passageways. They don't find anything that day, although they do have fun scaring the bejeezus out of each other (until Jeff gets them all something awesome with his green monster suit. Seriously, Jeff is the best. Why can't he stick around and we'll send stupid Karen Brewer off to California?) A few days later, Dawn goes into the barn to read and ends up sitting on the barn floor with some hay scattered around because... it's comfortable? Really, I don't get it. I had friends with barns when I was a kid and they were really fun for playing in haylofts and swinging on ropes from the rafters, but I have no idea why anyone would want to just go sit in one in stifling late August heat. But then Dawn falls through a trapdoor and ta-da! discovers her secret passageway, which she follows to her bedroom. She also finds some old detritus in the passageway, a shoe buckle and an indian head nickel. The next few times she goes back in there, with Jeff and the BSC, she finds other things. She's convinced there's a ghost.
I was always sort of jealous of Dawn's secret passageway. And I definitely spent many an afternoon tapping walls in my basement and shining flashlights around the garage, hoping for a secret space of my own. Of course, a large portion of that might have come from growing up with six people in a 900 square foot house. I carved a secret "cave" out of junk in the basement storage room (mainly some precariously stacked luggage and reams of half used computer paper that my dad used to bring home from work for my sister and I to color on) and spent a lot of time there wishing it were a real secret, and that my dad wouldn't come traipsing in looking for his cordless drill and that my sister wouldn't be able to find me to beg me to play "Barbie Flower Shop" with her. Dawn did not have these problems and she got a secret passageway... lucky duck.
Plot: So basically, it's the end of summer in Stoneybrook and it's really hot and humid, leading to a lot of stormy weather, setting a "spooky" stage for all the "spooky" happenings at casa O'Dawn. Dawn's house was built in 1795 and she hears strange noises and, let's face it, has something of an overactive imagination, so one dreary afternoon she invites the BSC over to look for secret passageways. They don't find anything that day, although they do have fun scaring the bejeezus out of each other (until Jeff gets them all something awesome with his green monster suit. Seriously, Jeff is the best. Why can't he stick around and we'll send stupid Karen Brewer off to California?) A few days later, Dawn goes into the barn to read and ends up sitting on the barn floor with some hay scattered around because... it's comfortable? Really, I don't get it. I had friends with barns when I was a kid and they were really fun for playing in haylofts and swinging on ropes from the rafters, but I have no idea why anyone would want to just go sit in one in stifling late August heat. But then Dawn falls through a trapdoor and ta-da! discovers her secret passageway, which she follows to her bedroom. She also finds some old detritus in the passageway, a shoe buckle and an indian head nickel. The next few times she goes back in there, with Jeff and the BSC, she finds other things. She's convinced there's a ghost.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Stacey's different... and it's harder on her than anyone knows.
The Baby-sitters Club #3: The Truth About Stacey
So I think we all know the truth about Stacey. There are 2 fundamental truths, and we hold these truths to be self-evident, that Stacey McGill is diabetic, and that Stacey McGill is AWESOME.
Background: Okay, seriously, this is probably as good a time as any to make clear my obsession with one Ms. Anastasia Elizabeth McGill. So sophisticated. So cool. I thought if I moved to New York City I’d be just like her. So even though I was 23 years old before I got the chance, I moved here anyway. Yes, that’s right. I made a vital and irrevocable life decision because of Stacey McGill. Ashamed, me? Never.
So I think we all know the truth about Stacey. There are 2 fundamental truths, and we hold these truths to be self-evident, that Stacey McGill is diabetic, and that Stacey McGill is AWESOME.
Background: Okay, seriously, this is probably as good a time as any to make clear my obsession with one Ms. Anastasia Elizabeth McGill. So sophisticated. So cool. I thought if I moved to New York City I’d be just like her. So even though I was 23 years old before I got the chance, I moved here anyway. Yes, that’s right. I made a vital and irrevocable life decision because of Stacey McGill. Ashamed, me? Never.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Good-bye, Stoneybrook...hello, Camp Mohawk!
Super Special #2: The Baby-sitters' Summer Vacation.
You know, I went to camp for six years, and never once did I refer to it as a "vacation." Sure it was fun, and yeah, it definitely beat school, but vacation was reserved for blissful spring breaks or weekends at the amusement park (okay, fine, my parents' idea of an excellent spring break trip was visiting my dad's relatives in Kentucky, and given my issues with heights, fast motions, and barfing (I am the Margo Pike of my family) the amusement park was never my favorite place. But you get the idea.) Vacation, at the very least, did not involve waking up in a bunk bed and sharing a communal bathroom with 30 strangers. These girls have strange ideas of vacation.
To synopsize: the girls (plus Logan, as we are repeatedly reminded, but let's just face it, Logan could pretty much be considered one of the girls at this point. I mean, when you let Mary Anne Spier whip you, you've really got no claim to masculinity left.) are off to Camp Mohawk for two weeks as Counselors-in-Training, or CITs (and Junior CITs, but that's a rant for another paragraph) taking along several of their nearest and dearest baby-sitting charges, although the specific kids themselves actually play very little role in the stories, a nice change from other plotlines. Most of the girls' stories revolve around their personal growth or their interactions with other CITs, more than with the kids. It's actually quite different from a typical BSC book, and a reminder of what made these books good, back in the day (pre-ghostwriters.)
You know, I went to camp for six years, and never once did I refer to it as a "vacation." Sure it was fun, and yeah, it definitely beat school, but vacation was reserved for blissful spring breaks or weekends at the amusement park (okay, fine, my parents' idea of an excellent spring break trip was visiting my dad's relatives in Kentucky, and given my issues with heights, fast motions, and barfing (I am the Margo Pike of my family) the amusement park was never my favorite place. But you get the idea.) Vacation, at the very least, did not involve waking up in a bunk bed and sharing a communal bathroom with 30 strangers. These girls have strange ideas of vacation.
To synopsize: the girls (plus Logan, as we are repeatedly reminded, but let's just face it, Logan could pretty much be considered one of the girls at this point. I mean, when you let Mary Anne Spier whip you, you've really got no claim to masculinity left.) are off to Camp Mohawk for two weeks as Counselors-in-Training, or CITs (and Junior CITs, but that's a rant for another paragraph) taking along several of their nearest and dearest baby-sitting charges, although the specific kids themselves actually play very little role in the stories, a nice change from other plotlines. Most of the girls' stories revolve around their personal growth or their interactions with other CITs, more than with the kids. It's actually quite different from a typical BSC book, and a reminder of what made these books good, back in the day (pre-ghostwriters.)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)